I smile back.
Chapter Thirty
Nathan
ERIKA: Mr. Singhania is here to meet you.
I finish reading my assistant’s text just as my father barges inside without knocking. He still thinks he owns the company and everyone inside it. He couldn’t be more wrong.
Few more months, Nathan.
Be patient for a few more months.
“Dad,” I greet him, leaning back against my chair and not bothering to stand. “Can I help you?”
He glares through eyes the same color as mine. If it were possible to remove every part of me that resembled him, I would do it.
“Is that how I’ve raised you to talk to your elders?”
“Since when did offering help become rude?”
His hands tighten into fists before he unclenches them. I’m twice his size now, no longer a child he used to beat to discipline every time I didn’t do as he liked. It was all the time because he’s not a man who’s ever pleased.
“The older you’re getting, the more disrespectful you’re becoming,” he grits out haughtily. “Don’t forget the wealth, the fame, the position you have today is because of me. I put you there. It was my hard lessons that shaped you into a leader.”
A leader? I want to scoff. He was trying to raise a puppet.
He almost did, but he failed.
Nothing makes me happier than seeing the fact eat him alive.
“Like I could ever forget,” I say indifferently. Flipping my hand, I raise a brow, “Were you here to give me a lecture or…”
“Your mother is upset you haven’t been home for family dinner in months.”
“We don’t have family dinners,” I retort. “And I’m only a phone call away. She can call to talk or invite me over anytime.”
Bet she’s probably too busy putting on a show in her rich circles of bored housewives.
And my father is lying.
There was a time his guilt-tripping used to work on me. Until I learned of his treachery in separating me from my brother for years. I haven’t confronted him about it. Certain he will deny it. The day I do, it will be with proof.
I swear the more I see his true colors, the more I loathe him. I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him right now. Somehow, I manage.
“Anything else?” I say, bored.
“When are you setting up a meeting with Arnav?” he demands angrily, sitting down across from me. “He’s been calling me.”
“I already told you I’m not going into business with him.”
“This again?” His tone is frustrating.
“You’re the one being difficult.”
“Me? I am trying to show you the way.”
“To get into bed with criminals?” I counter incredulously.
